


The Dancing's Appeal

by Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)



Series: FrUk Anniversary Week 2016 [6]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dancing in the Living Room, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6473056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDestineeZara/pseuds/Destinee%20Zara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur didn’t dance. He just didn’t do the “dance” thing. <br/>And he was quite fine by that, thank you very much.<br/>He couldn't see the appeal anyway.<br/>Well, his boyfriend-slash-husband Francis would have none of that.<br/>(Written for the sixth day of the FrUk Anniversary Week 2016 on tumblr!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dancing's Appeal

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello there =D
> 
> Welcome to the sixth day of the FrUk Anniversary Week 2016, "Anniversary Waltz"!
> 
> First of all: Hetalia doesn’t belong to me. If it belonged, I would be the Queen of the world. Literally.
> 
> THIS STORY IS UNEDITED! So, pardon any English mistakes
> 
> This was made for the sixth day of the FrUk Anniversary Week 2016 on tumblr!
> 
> Just one last note before you start reading:  
> \- [text after dashes] = TALKING  
> (A Romance Language custom, I guess)
> 
> Now, to the story!

Arthur didn’t dance. He just didn’t do the “dance” thing.

The last time he had tried, he had stepped on Queen Elizabeth the First’s foot. Although the queen (bless her heart) was very sympathetic about the whole incident, that was the last straw to the proud nation.

He didn’t dance. Period.

Better leave that silly activity to the more energetic nations (like America or Italy or Seychelles). He preferred to stay on the corner with a drink on his hand, just watching and judging.

That was why Arthur was so mortified when his long-time-boyfriend/husband Francis proposed them to celebrate their next anniversary with a small ball to friends and family (which, frankly, was already a reasonable number of people).

A ball in which they would open with a romantic waltz.

Without even bating an eyelash, the Englishman answered immediately.

\- Absolutely not.

Francis raised his trimmed-to-perfection eyebrows.

\- But, _mon coeur_ [French: my heart], it is my time to pick the way we are going to celebrate. – he pouted.

Arthur stared at him, unimpressed by his antics.

\- And I didn’t said no to the ball. – he shrugged – It is a good opportunity to mock some of the other nations.

The Frenchman laughed.

\- _Non, non, non_. You are not going to use our anniversary to bully our friends. – he kissed England lightly on the lips.

Arthur smirked.

\- You can’t blame me for trying, poppet.

\- I can’t, indeed, _mon amour_ [French: my love]. So what do you oppose on my ball idea?

The Englishman fought the blush that threatened to spread on his cheeks and won the battle. That was just Francis, for fuck’s sake! The most lovely bastard that had ever existed and his boyfriend-slash-husband for more than a century not by political reasons, but for personal ones, which make their relationship even more strong. They had passed the point of feeling embarrassed around each other. Their relationship was comfortable, confident and supportive.

So Arthur swallowed the last remains of his pride and shrugged.

\- I don’t do the dancing thing. Besides, a romantic waltz to open the party is rather tacky if you ask me.

Francis was shocked.

\- What do you mean with “I don’t do the dancing thing”?

Sheepishly England shrugged again (and this time he did blushed a little).

\- In case you haven’t noticed on those 112 years, I don’t dance. – he smirked – And you say that I am the one that doesn’t pay attention to the details.

The Frenchman stared at him in complete disbelief.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

\- Come on. It is not **that** horrible.

\- But _cher_ [French: dear]! Dancing is almost like sex!

England groaned.

\- Why must you compare everything you like to sex?

\- But I remember you dancing when you were little!

\- You mean I stepping on the foot of my partners and then being frowned upon?

\- When… when was the last time…?

\- The Sixteenth Century.

Francis was even mortified than before.

Arthur sighed.

\- Look, luv, it is not a big deal…

\- You were one of the most skilled fighter in the whole world.

The Englishman blinked.

\- Uhmmm… Thanks for the compliment, I guess, but-

\- Your feet movement and posture were impeccable while you were duelling. Almost the most sinful thing I ever seen. I never knew if I wanted to kill you with your own sword or fuck you right away.

\- Thanks? But I don’t see the connection-

\- For those kind of movements – Francis continued – many dancers would kill for. Or sell their soul to the devil himself. – He stared at Arthur in complete disbelief – How can the man capable of such sick moves during a fight not capable of holding himself during a simply waltz?

England just stared at him.

\- See why I’m really freaking out here, _mon amour_? It makes not sense **at all**!

Arthur could only shrug.

\- I never saw these two things as related. Fighting is fighting and dancing is dancing. And I don’t do dance.

Francis casted him an unimpressed stare.

\- The way you simplify things still annoys me, after all these years.

The Englishman shrugged again and smiled.

\- Fight me, frog.

They both laughed a little.

\- You are the same as always, _mon cher_. [French: my dear]

\- Well, just for the record, I still won’t dance, poppet. I would only embarrass myself in front of everybody. Besides, I hardly see the appeal.

France gave him a look that England knew well. The look that indicated that the Frenchman was up to no good. Arthur rolled his eyes.

\- I don’t know what you are thinking, but stop right now. I don’t like this line of thinking.

\- But this will interest you, _mon ange_ [French: my angel].

\- Oh, really?

\- Indeed, Arthur.

Francis picked his cell phone and put some slow classical waltz.

He stood up and offered his hand to Arthur.

\- Dance with me?

The Englishman crossed his arms.

\- And why would I do that, frog?

Francis smiled softly.

\- So I can show you the appeal. Come on, _rosbiff_ , nobody is watching.

\- I would only step on your froggy feet.

\- Indulge _moi, sil vous plait_ [French: please]?

Arthur sighed resigned and accepted the hand.

\- Ok, now what do I do?

\- Put your hands around my neck and we go slow.

England frowned.

\- That is not a waltz! It is barely dancing at all!

\- I never said we are going to waltz. Now come on.

The Englishman did as he was told and the two of them started to move slowly through their living room.

At first, Arthur was stiff and uncomfortable, but Francis would mischievously kiss his cheek and his nose and make the whole experience be precious. Without even noticing, England relaxed and started to simply enjoy the slow movement and the candid affection that his partner was displaying.

It was nice indeed.

\- This is how you enjoy a waltz, _mon amour_.

\- Ok, I have to admit that it is nice.

\- We can do that at our little ball too.

\- Hum… I hardly think that this would be a remarkable opening waltz, poppet.

\- Oh, but this could be our waltz, our secret anniversary waltz. When nobody is looking, but ourselves. Because, frankly, _mon cher_ – he smiled – your eyes would be the only ones that matter in this ball.

England laughed.

\- My God, you are still the same old sappy frog.

And he had to kiss Francis silly after that.

The Frenchman chuckled.

\- But you have to admit that you still love me anyway.

They kissed again.

\- Always, my love, always.

**Author's Note:**

> Making off of this story:
> 
> Domestic stuff is easy to write but it is quite pointless and plot less ._.
> 
> I mean, I like how cute this turned out. 
> 
> Like, I REALLY like LIKE how it turned out.
> 
> Francis and Arthur's relationship is healthy, cute and doesn't have that stupid desperation that many people believe that makes a healthy relationship.  
> You know, the desperation of a coulple that is ALWAYS looking at each other like the other is the sun and wanting to kiss/fuck the daylights out of the other all the time... That is not exactly unhealthy, but I imagine that it is kinda hard to maintain after a while. I mean, after some time, you have seen your significant other take a shit or seeing then being completely dirty because they didn't bath in two days or seeing then having a complete melt down because of stress and other non-sexy mundane things. I mean, one may still love the other madly, but that desperation passes and what is left is a more soft love. Like the kind that I tried to put on this fanfic in particular, the one that is all about little pecks on the lips for good morning and bye-bye, discussing what they will do on their anniversary, having to buy milk and other stuff toghether. Love is not always fireworks. After a while, love is more like that old blanket that one have and that one adores because it is soft, it is comfy and it smells like home.  
> I like (and hope) that this soft love it the one that I included on this fanfic and I like this result.
> 
> But it is still plotless. There is no big conflict, no mystery to unravel, no vilain to defeat, no magic world to explore, no big problem to solve.  
> Just domestics.  
> And what makes me frustrated is that this precious soft love seems to go to waste in this plotless domestic stuff.   
> Wouldn't it be AWESOME to see some of the soft love in an adventure story instead of the desperate love?  
> It would be cute as hell that is for sure.
> 
> Yeah, this plotless domestic fluff is closer to reality than any other story than what I could come up with, so I guess I can accept that (and be happy with the plotless fluff maybe).   
> Fluff pointless domestic scenarios are the real relationship goals.
> 
> ...sorry, I'm on a babbling mood.
> 
> Maybe it is because I have a test tomorro/today. A test that I'll probably fail...   
> (In my defence, I DID study, but: 1] I'm dumb; and 2] the test is fucking hard. So, I'm basically screwed. Oh bother...)
> 
> Oh well...
> 
> Anyways, this story is in the same universe as "Time to Think" and "A Promise"! Just for the record.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you have enjoyed it! Leave a kudo and a comment if you liked this story s2
> 
> Friendly reminder that you can always help the writer by giving a kudo and a comment ;D I feed on them (and I try to answer every single one of them too s2)
> 
> And you can follow me on tumblr if you want :D frukheaven.tumblr.com
> 
> I hope I’ll see ya tomorrow =3
> 
> Bye-bye! o/


End file.
